A Bum’s Manifesto

Manifesto of a Bum on Chartres

I am a ship channel with
no ship
I am a tree with
many branches and still
more leaves

The wine-press knoweth
not the grape
I am under erasure saith
the reptile critic
I too am of reptilian descent

I am a Blakean hero
I drink the world’s guilt
and express it as energy
Allen Ginsberg’s twenty-seven cents
I am nothing

Lucifer stretching his wings
before the fall
I am pharmakos
I drink the world’s energy
and express it as guilt

I am the world’s cipher
I consort with the dead
and amuse the living
posture, breath, eyes, teeth
loneliness

I speak in many voices
the sublime and the abject
none of which
are to be
trusted

Humor me

(Fragments of this poem appeared in Solid Quarter, Issue 3.)

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